


hard to dance with a devil on your back

by kerrykhat



Series: shake it off [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Comment Fic, Crossover, Gen, POV Character of Color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykhat/pseuds/kerrykhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only a matter of time, Artemis knew, before she caught <i>somebody's</i> attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hard to dance with a devil on your back

**Author's Note:**

> A response to [this prompt](http://hariboo-smirks.livejournal.com/301452.html?thread=2507404#t2507404) at the "Let's Avenge Some Shit" comment fic-a-thon on LJ.

It was only a matter of time, Artemis knew, before she caught _somebody's_ attention. In the year since the green guy smashed up Harlem, parts of the neighborhood (particularly hers) had been getting worse and worse. Finally, she had enough of it. Her dad had left most of the gear when her mom kicked him out after coming home from prison last year, and it was short work to raid it and fashion a rough outfit for her. That night, she slipped out of her window and stalked the streets, using her bow to pin down the first criminals she could find and leave them as a gift to the police.

What started as one patrol quickly turned into a habit, her job. Even the chaos caused by those freaky aliens didn't stop her from protecting her neighborhood with her trusty bow. In two months, she'd been methodically targeting the gangs taking root. Dear old dad probably hadn't realized that she'd be using what he'd taught her about criminal groups to play the white knight. She hoped the eventual realization gave him a heart attack. 

Huntress, they called her, and she didn't know whether she should laugh or cry. Huntress was her mother. She wasn't a hunter. She was just doing what she could to break the mold her father had tried to force her into. She was just using the skills he gave her to do something good in the world so that she could escape her family's legacy.

People think of the goddess Artemis as only a hunter, but they forget that she's also a protector. She likes to think that as she studies her prey before she moves in for the capture. She's protecting those who might otherwise fall victim to the criminals invading her home.

The police were already whispering about her and the criminals were keeping a wary eye out for the arrow whistling through the dark. So when she noticed a few faces that she didn't recognize and a shadow in an apartment she knew was empty, she knew she was officially on somebody's radar.

Which is how she found herself in a game of chicken, arrow nocked and bow drawn back against another archer that night.

"So, which goon squad do you belong to?" she asked, trying to deepen her voice and add a bit of a French accent to it. It was hard enough trying to keep her hair hidden. She wasn't going to give them a voice to go off of as well. 

"Could ask the same about you, _Huntress_ ," the man replied from the shadows.

What? He thought he was her _mom_? Really?

"I'm not the Huntress and I work for no one," she answered as calmly as she could. "You've got your archers mixed up." The guess was a little too close to home, though. "So, again? Who do you work for?"

"You tell me your name and I'll tell you mine." 

Artemis squinted in the faint light of the street lamps that reached the roof where they were standing. She couldn't see his face, but his bow she could see. She'd kill for a bow like that (figuratively, of course). Whoever backed him had money, lots of it. There's no way she could ever afford a bow like that, not without selling her soul to the highest bidder.

"Sorry, can't do that."

He didn't answer, and for a moment, Artemis was afraid he's going to loosen his arrow. Instead, he relaxed his stance.

"Figured it was worth a shot," and she can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face. "Sometimes that works."

"And by sometimes, you mean never?" Artemis shot back as she backed away slowly, her arrow still drawn, until she reached the edge of the roof. She wasn't going to get anything out of him, not tonight. "If you're smart, you'll leave," she told him, putting her arrow back in the quiver. "This area's mine." Leaping on to the adjacent roof, she disappeared into the night to finish her patrol.

The next day, Artemis was folding laundry when a knock came from the door, followed by the sounds of her mother answering it. Already on edge from the night before, she was already edging towards the door when her mother called out her name.

"Artemis! Somebody here to see you!"

Wishing she had time to grab a collapsable crossbow, Artemis slowly walked into the main living area where her mom and… Jesus Christ, was that Clint Barton?

She froze, staring at him. She wasn't that big of a fan of the Avengers. It was hard when one of the members on the team tore through your neighborhood like it was nothing while fighting an equally terrifying monster, but she'd known about Barton before the team went public. She'd watched recordings of his shows, back when he was a carnie, when training with the bow. The man was a freaking legend and then he disappeared off the map to join some black ops program before becoming a superhero. It figured he'd be the one to track her down.

"What did you do, Artemis?" Her mother's anxious voice drew her back to earth. The loss of her oldest daughter to the life that she'd once lived haunted her, and Artemis knew that her mom was terrified she'll do the same. She doesn't know that the reason Artemis sneaks out every night is to keep that from happening.

"She didn't do anything, Paula. Not what you're thinking, anyways," Barton answered.

"So what is it that you think I did?" Artemis asked, finally finding her voice and forcing her body to remain relaxed.

"SHIELD's been getting reports of a vigilante using a bow. Guess some people thought it was me clearing out Harlem," Barton said with a shrug. "They forgot to mention the archer in question was female. A young female. Stark still hasn't let me live that one down."

"Artemis, what did you do?" her mom asked again, quieter this time, ignoring Barton's attempts to lighten the situation.

Artemis glanced down at her mom before looking out at the neighborhood, her neighborhood. Even with Barton was standing in the room like the intruder he was, she couldn't lie about this. Not to her mom.

"I wasn't going to let dad win," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not like he did with Jade."

Her mom didn't say anything, just reached her arms out and pulled Artemis down into a hug. They stayed like that for a minute, arms wrapped tightly around each other before her mom pulled away to look up at Barton.

"You tell your bosses that there's nothing to worry about here," she told him in the tone of voice Artemis had only heard once before: when her mom had kicked her dad to the curb. 

Barton looked like he wanted to argue, but instead just nodded curtly and left. Smart man. Her mom has escrima sticks under the arms of her wheelchair and wasn't afraid to use them if provoked.

Artemis waited until she hear the elevator groan down the hall before starting to speak.

"Mom, I can explain," she began before her mother interrupted her.

"You don't need to, Artemis," she answered, giving her another hug. "You don't need to explain to me."

Artemis knew that this wasn't going to be the end of it, at least not with Barton. The next few nights as she patrolled, she kept a wary eye out, but there was no sign of him. That just made her more nervous for some reason. She'd rather have the confrontation and get it out of the way instead of waiting and stewing over all the ways it could go wrong. Maybe that was his strategy.

Finally, six nights later, as she sat perched on a rooftop overlooking a park, she heard somebody approaching behind her. She twisted around, bow halfway drawn before she saw who it was.

"It's just me," Barton said, holding his hands up to show that he was unarmed. His bow and quiver were slung over his back, and there was a box tucked under one of his arms. Artemis slowly lowered her weapon but continued to glare at him.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Just came to give you this, from one archer to another," he answered, holding out the box. She walked towards him carefully, in case this was some sort of trap. "I noticed you had some major bow envy going on the other night," he continued as Artemis carefully opened the box and stared at its contents. A new bow, just like his but sized for her, lay inside along with a quiver full of arrows. She carefully removed one and inspected the strange arrowhead.

"Those ones release tear gas," Barton explained, his hands jammed in his pockets, like this whole thing was no big deal. "Stark whipped them up special for me."

"Wh-why are you doing this?" Artemis asked, looking up at him. "Why are you giving me these?"

"Who says I need a reason?"

"I do. Nobody does anything without a reason."

"Maybe you just seem like a good kid," Barton said with a shrug. "Maybe I like your spunk. Or maybe I just want to help out a fellow archer. Who knows."

There's something else that he's not saying. You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. But he's already given her enough to think about, so she doesn't press him on it even though she wants to. Nobody does anything without a reason, and she's still not sure what his is.

"Thanks. For these," she replied, closing the box and tucking it under her arm.

He nodded and turned to walk away. He's almost to the fire escape when he paused and turned back around. "Your dad might be a piece of shit, but he chose a good name for you," Barton told her over his shoulder. "Protector of the innocent." With that, he slipped away, leaving Artemis clutching the box to her chest, stunned that somebody else had finally made the connection.

The next day, Artemis received a letter in the mail, a scholarship offer from the Maria Stark Foundation. Full tuition for one of the best prep schools in the city for next year, along with an internship offer for the summer as long as she kept her grades up. Crammed at the bottom, in barely legible handwriting, was a note from Barton.

"Or maybe I know what's it's like to try and outshoot crap odds. Go get 'em, kid."


End file.
